


Void Take You

by MedusaOblongata_IreMaiden



Series: Curse My Magic [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, To smut or not to smut?, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 21:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7700287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedusaOblongata_IreMaiden/pseuds/MedusaOblongata_IreMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just a quick snippet I thought was funny.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Evelyn stomped through the dark; underbrush cracking and snapping under forceful footsteps. She emerged a few paces from where she'd entered, the light from the campfire beckoning her towards camp. Her heart still stinging, she couldn't bear the thought of facing her companions and turned up the river instead. She followed the bank until the only light was the gentle reflection of the crescent moon dancing on the stutterering surface. She didn't know how long or how far she'd wandered. She wasn't aware of any sounds beyond those of the river playing against the rocks and the crunch of stone beneath her boots, though, as she slowed her pace and her anger dimmed her ears tuned in to the melodies of the night. Insects chirped a lulling litany, gentle winds whirled through the leaves on trees, and, distantly, she could hear the constant splash of water crashing into a surface. She walked slower now, eyes and ears moving appreciatively over the peaceful evening, enjoying the freedom and solidarity. _Mage towers were never like this_ , she thought as the mouth of the river crested into a wide pool adorned with a small waterfall. She'd discovered many beautiful sites on her journeys, but finding this one - alone, in the dark of night, with no tasks tugging her away - she could truly appreciate it, for the first time. Truly appreciate the beauty of Thedas. Truly appreciate that she yet live. Truly appreciate what it meant to be free from the circle (even if hers had not been particularly oppressive by comparison.) "Maker," she breathed, "it's beautiful."

She slid off her boots, once again reminded of the ache in her feet, and rubbed two healing hands along her soles. Raw skin losing its red tint, blisters subsiding, even the dull ache eased some. She peeled off her robe, dirt crusted to her body and the clothing itself. "Void take you," she tossed it in the river and rubbed it furiously against itself, then draped it over a tree. Tiptoeing over the pointy rocks, she dipped a toe into the chilly waters, skin bristling up the length of her leg. Thinking it over, she scurried up a boulder, and jumped into the center of the waters, curled into the shape of a ball. Her lungs burned, protesting the frigid waters as she plummeted to the bottom and kicked off, racing for the moving waters of the surface, she broke through with a gasp. "So cold. S-s-so, cold," she shivered, rubbing embered hands against her body as she washed away the mud and sweat and ....other things she didn't want to ponder right now.  
She swam towards the short falls and leaned her head back into them, letting the water cascade over her long, tangled hair as she ran her warm hands along her scalp, more comforting than cleansing. She took a final dip under the water and rushed for the shore. _Hot Springs. Must find HOT Springs._ She shook most the excess water from her body and twisted her mangled hair tightly to squeeze out the water, bending over to let it run to the ground rather than down her back.

"Ahem."

Evelyn nearly jumped back into the cold water, knees coming together and hands splaying wildly across her body in a feeble attempt to cover herself. She squinted through the moonlit area at the shadowy figure clearing his throat, her cheeks felt hot enough to melt off of her face.

"Don't stop on my account. I only meant to alert you to my presence. Everyone seems to think I'm the only one not at risk of being sent back to camp with flesh wounds."

"Dorian?"

"None other."

"Thank the Maker."

"I brought you your black robe, Charter was even so kind as to patch the hole," he held it up showing off the bright red swatch recycled from the tents. "It's a tad bit nipply out here, Inquisitor."

"Give me that!" She snatched the garment and crawled inside, not thrilled with the itch of the wool, but more thrilled than the humiliation of its absence. "My other one would have dried out. Eventually. But thank you."

"Were you planning on staying here this evening? After all the hard work our men put into building our little house?"

Evelyn glared with equal parts anger and hurt. "I can't sleep in there."

"Come, let's talk." Dorian gently tugged her towards him, leading them to a large rock and sitting down beside her. He pulled a fine toothed comb from his robes and began working the knots out of her hair. "No one knows I carry this with me. And, certainly, no one else has ever been given the privelage of its use. For you, my dear, I shall make an exception."  
  
"He called me a slut."  
  
Dorian's hands stilled in her hair and there was a thoughtful pause before he spoke, "Well, he  _is_ Andrastian. An Ex-Templar. FERELDAN. I'm sure everyone is a slut by his standards. I doubt he could come up with a word sinful enough to adequately describe me." Evelyn sighed heavily, slumping her shoulders forward. "He couldn't be more wrong, of course. I thought that part went without saying. Please tell me you know that; Varric's crossbow gets more action than you do."  
  
"It's not that," she chuckled softly, "he seems to think that because I was born to nobility casual sex with multiple partners is just something I'm accustomed to. And..." she peered over her shoulder with sad eyes, "he thinks you're one of them."  
  
"Preposterous. Just when I thought he couldn't possibly get any duller. I concede. He's not worth the heartache. When we get back to Skyhold I'll storm the barracks and find you an equally strapping young man who actually knows what to do with a woman. Actually, I may need Bull's help for that part." Evelyn laughed again, more merrily than before.  
  
"That's quite alright. I think it's better I focus on saving the world instead of warming my bed."  
  
"There's nothing that says you can't do both. What about Krem? I could really use a distraction for him."  
  
"I'd rather not think about it right now."  
  
"Fair enough.  Why don't we talk about this unruly hair of yours? How do you do anything with it?"  
  
"I don't," she grinned, "twist it up with sticks and pins or just let it go. Josephine has someone set aside to work on it whenever we're expecting visitors to Skyhold. Which is (unfortunately) always, as of late. I suppose their proposals of marriage will look far more appealing now."  
  
Dorian grabbed her shoulders and turned her around to face him. "Evie, that is not a sacrifice you need to make. You give enough already. I left Tevinter as a result of my choice not to marry the ' _noble'_ way; for power and status and wealth. For appearance and alliance. I see nothing noble about being bred and traded like cattle. _Who's father is offering a larger dowry? Which son is more deft in destruction magic?_ It's not a fate I could bare, nor one I would wish to befall you."  
  
A soft smile played at the corner of her mouth. "Thank you, Dorian. It's oddly comforting, having someone who understands the weight and sacrifice that comes with title. More so, having someone that values **me** over any of it."  
  
"Don't gush. It's the one kind of attention I can't handle. Come now, let's get back to camp," he tugged her arm and winked playfully, "before they start to suspect something."


	2. Nose Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick snippet I thought was funny.

"Whope - there she goes."  
  
"Someone should follow her."  
  
"Go after her, Shadows."  
  
"Me? I'm not going after her. I hardly know her. You do it, Mr. Big Talker."  
  
"You're a spy. And the only woman."  
  
"Not a spy. Agent. Bull's the spy."  
  
"Not anymore. Now I'm just a merc. A merc that doesn't want to get his ass scorched by a pissed off, fire breathing, red-headed mage. Mmmm. On second thought, I'll go."  
  
"NO!" *clearing throat* "I mean, I'll go."


	3. Chapter 3

Cullen broke through the trees, dragging broken limbs and briars with him, lodged haphazardly in the gaps of his armor. He's fairly convinced his body is running on self-loathing, alone. Completely beyond giving any fucks, he drags his tired, aching legs toward the warm glow of campfire and smell of charred fish.  Despite the pain, the anger, and the hurt - and no doubt instant teasing that will ensue upon his arrival - he's hungry. Three days with little more than herbs will do that. His armor grinds against the twigs lodged within as he marches, full-stride, towards the silhouetted quanari, dwarf, and elf sitting round the crackling flames.  
  
As Cullen approaches, the fire lights up his face, revealing the mussed hair, dirt stained face, and heavy scowl previously hidden under the cloak of darkness. Varric hurls himself off his perch in a righteous fit of snorts and meagerly stunted laughter, "What happened to you, Curly?"  
  
"Not. Another. Word."  
  
"But your cooking lessons were going so well."  
  
"You were watching us?!"  
  
"We didn't want to interrupt. Things always end so tragically when that happens. Who interrupted you in the middle of the woods?"  
  
"Some stupid, jealous twit."  
  
"What stupid, jealous twit did you manage to run into out there?!"  
  
"Me."  
  
Varric and Bull seemed to share the same exasperated draw for breath. Cullen stared hopelessly into the grass, reaching for a piece of cooked fish and tearing a bite to chew on, possibly indefinitely, as he no longer had the desire for food.  
  
"Oh boy. Curly, remember when I tried to talk to you... that would have been a good time to say things you were thinking that MAYBE would not be a good idea to say to the inquisitor."  
  
"I did say stupid, right? ' _Stupid, jealous twit_.' Yes, yes. ' **Stupid** ' was in there."  
  
"Commander, if I may" Charter looked to Cullen for approval, continuing when he gave her a nod, "Our Lady has been fawning all over you since Crestwood. I said nothing to her, of course, but all she could talk about while we were sneaking about Caer Bronach, was YOU. How guilty she felt. How worried she was. How the dagger she begrudgingly handed over to me, belonged to you. I don't see what you could possibly be jealous about - you have her undivided attention."  
  
Cullen blinked several times. "Really?" Charter smirked and nodded gently.  
  
"What did you do?" Bull took a big bite of his skewered meat and pointed the naked stick in the direction of the river, "she was on a rampage when she tore through here."  
  
"I may have addressed her promiscuity in a less than sensitive manner."  
  
"You're fucked."  
  
"Why thank you. YES. That _IS_ helpful."  
  
"Just out of curiosity, what promiscuity are we talking about here?" Varric eyed Cullen suspiciously, leaning back when he noticed his eyes breifly shoot over to look at the Iron Bull, who, perceptive as ever, caught the glance and meaning behind it.  
  
"Me? Hate to break it to you, Cull, but I'm not banging the boss. Not that she doesn't have it, cause, DAMN, she does, but I sort have a good thing going with Dorian and I don't want to mess that up."  
  
Cullen felt like an ogre had just landed on his chest. His tongue dried in his throat as he stumbled over his broken thoughts. "You - and Dorian?"  
  
"Damn, Curly, it's not like they've been quiet about it. Maybe you should come down from your roost more often."

"Admittedly, the trip here would have been more pleasant had I fully understood the context of conversation." Looking towards Bull, "that's why, with the eyebrows, ' _or a mage'_ heh, that's funny."

" **Now** he gets it."

"All the same, I don't think I'll be venturing out with you all again. I do far less damage when I'm contained within four walls."  
  
"That might just be the most depressing-ass thing I've ever heard. You need the inquisitor more than you know, she's the only thing keeping you out of the darkness." Varric stood up and brushed his hands across his pants, "and I'm pretty damn sure she needs you too. I'm going to try to get some shut eye, but you ought to stay up and wait for her." The words trailed off as he walked away.  
  
Charter nodded a goodbye, "I think I'm turning in, too," and followed behind the dwarf.  
  
"Once Dorian gets back, we'll likely be looking for a corner to curl up in. I'll wait with you 'til then."  
  
"Don't trouble yourself, go rest while you can. I have a feeling I'll be sleeping out here tonight, anyway. I'll watch the camp. Someone else will have to take over in a few hours."

"You got it, Boss." Iron Bull clapped him on the back and picked a twig out of his hair, admiring it with a sigh. Cullen looked over his shoulder at him, slightly confused and rubbing the spot now itching with twitching folicles. "This could have been a very good sign. It's a shame, really. Missed a perfectly good romp in the forest."

"GOOD NIGHT, BULL."


	4. Chapter 4

Cullen managed to eat enough to quell the ache in his gut. He set two skewers aside for Evelyn and wrapped the rest in a large leaf, then a length of fabric, saving them for the group to eat in the morning. He looked around at the dark trees, eyes groggy and vision blurred from lack of sleep. "Still no sign of Evelyn and Dorian," he sighed heavily and pushed himself to his feet, removing his chestplate and leaning it against the log he'd claimed as his own. He loosened the straps of his pauldrons and greaves, plucking the twigs from the joints of the metal, eventually pulling them off and tossing them to the ground with his plate mail. He tried to quiet his steps as he made for the river, pooling the cool water in a cupped hand and slurping it between his swollen lips. He'd all but forgotten his injuries until the reminding sting of cold met his mouth. He peered into the water, trying to catch sight of his eye and lip in the broken surface. From what he could see in the black water, he looked terrible: purple rings beneath his eyes, muck on the side of his face, rusty red crusted in the corner of his lips. He splashed his face a few times, wiping at the blood and dirt and grime. His hand ran down his grizzled chin, untrimmed stubble scraping at his calloused palms. "How am I to convince her I'm worth a damn looking like a captive and acting like a war hound?" He groaned into his hand.  
  
Rustling bushes upstream caught his attention and he stood quickly, hand curling around the pommel of his sword. Another rustle and he crouched, stepping forward as stealthily as he could manage, until he reached the edge of the clearing and hushed voices fell on his ears.  
  
"I can't. I know we talked about it. I know I'm supposed to be brave and strong, and talk to him like an adult, but I just can't. I'll sleep right here tonight, you needn't worry. I promise not to run off again."  
  
"Vishante Kaffas. I am not letting you sleep in the cold, wet grass. Pull up your big girl knickers and let's go."  
  
"I'm not wearing any and you know it," she hissed.  
  
Cullen blushed and started to back away from the brush.  
  
"All the more reason." Two sets of footsteps crunched in the weeds; one urgent and forceful, the other stumbling and resistant.  
  
" _Dorian_!"  
  
Suddenly Cullen was face-to-face with the Tevinter mage; so close he could smell the lingering scents of parchment, leather, and spiced wine. Cullen's eyes were wide saucers of tarnished gold. Guilt stamped all over his face. Dorian looked startled for a whisper of a breath before a self-satisfied smirk wiped away his surprise. His hand stretched out behind him, tightly fastened around the Inquisitor's wrist.  
  
"Commander," he spoke loudly and Evelyn seemed to jump, hanging her head and hiding behind him, "looking for something?"  
  
"I..I..I heard a commotion and t-thought I should investigate." _Fool! Formulate a sentence!_ Cullen pinched his eyes shut and chastised himself.  
  
"Of course, watchful guardian that you are. Protector. Advisor. _Consort_." Evelyn jerked his arm, glaring at the back of his head. "Of course, how _rude_ of me," his bronze bicep flexed as a strong arm pulled her forward with little effort, "you remember Evelyn, yes?"

"Void take you, Pavus," she growled quietly through her teeth.  
  
"I love you too, dear," he raised her hand to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss into her clenched fist and releasing it to fall to her side. He strolled away, humming a pleasant tune, and waving a hand in the air, "Sleep well, Commander."  
  
Cullen couldn't move, his feet and eyes both cemented to the ground. "I, uh, there's-"  
  
"Would you like to sit?" The words rushed from her mouth, sounding harsh even to her own ears. She slowed down, trying to lighten her tone, "Maybe closer to the fire?"  
  
Relief washed over him, "Maker, yes." He looked up at her, noting her damp hair and the wet robes hanging in her hand. "You must be freezing. Did you fall in the river?"  
  
His concern was genuine, she could tell, but words were still a challenge. Shaking her head, she took the first step forward, "went swimming. Found a little waterfall. It was fairly cold."  
  
Cullen followed behind her, nervously reaching for her, then withdrawing. Wanting to warm her up, but not invade  her space. If he had his mantle he'd throw it over her shoulder, but at this juncture all he has to offer is the shirt off his back, and, well, that would be awkward. "Would you like me to carry that?"  
  
"Hmm? Oh, I forgot all about it. It really needs to hang somewhere to dry."  
  
"Allow me." He stretched out a cautious hand. Evelyn lifted her arm hesitantly. Once she released the robe to him, he eagerly set off to drape it over a branch where the sun would catch it in a few short hours. She smiled watching him in his task to please her, taming her face before he returned. "Shall we?" He gestured toward the fire.  
  
With a nod Evelyn paced to the flames, planting herself on a log near the one piled with armor. Cullen sat beside his discarded shell and handed her the small flat rock he'd used to plate her skewered fish. "I'm not sure I can eat," she admitted.  
  
"You should try. We've a long day ahead of us tomorr-, erm, today."  
  
She pressed her lips into a line and stared at the blackened meat. "You're right. I'd say the same to any of you." She ripped a small piece from the stick and nibbled at it reluctantly, before popping it in her mouth. As she swallowed, her insides growled at the intruder. "Body says no, too," she chuckled, then looked towards Cullen, "did you eat?"  
  
"Yes, I managed. We have more for tomorrow, you and Dorian did well. I'm hoping the sun brings an appetite with it."  
  
"I might save this for tomorrow, too," she rolled the stick between her fingers, watching the edges blur.  
  
"Have at least a few more bites. Maker knows what lies ahead of us. We may not get another chance to eat."  
  
"There's always elfroot," she cringed.  
  
"Ugh, no thanks." An uncomfortable silence set in over them, suffocating. He looked for the right words, but every second that crept by without words left him wanting. "So..." _not the smoothest transition,_ "about Dorian. I know-"  
  
"Maker's fucking mercy, Cullen. You don't know anything."  
  
"I deserve that. And Probably more."  
  
"Damn right you do."  
  
"But, what I was going to say is, I know I was wrong. And I reacted poorly. And I'm sorry."  
  
"I'm sure you are, but that doesn't change anything. Words are just words. Actions speak volumes. You don't trust me, and we can't have L-" _Don't say love_ , "relations without trust."  
  
"You're done with me, then?" His voice was brittle, wet eyes reflecting the flames he stared into.  
  
Her heart ached in her chest. Her strength faltered, "I don't want to be."  
  
"Then let me fix this," he looked at her, exchanging hopeful glances. She didn't speak, though her eyes said it all.

_Please do._


	5. Chapter 5

They sat without speaking for a time. Each very aware of the tension between them; Evelyn wringing her hands together, Cullen rubbing a red line into his forehead. It's his voice that breaks the stalemate (again) "What would you have me do?"

She looks up, hesitantly. "I'm not sure. For starters, I want to know, in detail, what made you think I was sleeping with Dorian? I mean, I have some idea, but you were so certain you gave me an ultimatum."

Cullen straightened his body and pulled his shoulders back. A blank horror painting his face white. "Uhm.." was all he got out.

Evelyn crossed her arms and stared him down like a revered mother. "Out with it."

He palmed the back of his neck nervously. "Well, you always bring him with you on long trips, even though you already have a very talented mage in your party."

"We're going for flattery now? I didn't expect you to reach ass-kissing stage for another few days."

"Yes, well," he chuckled, "turns out I have some experience in that field."

Evelyn tilted her head down to conceal her smile and gestured for him to continue.

"Ah, right, as I was saying, you're frequently together. On the road and at the hold. He seems to consume a great deal of your attention," his voice softened and she lifted her eyes to watch his face, "and affection."

"He _thrives_ on attention. But I visit all of my companions regularly; advisors too."

"While that's true, it's certainly no secret that you two are _especially_ friendly. We've all heard your boisterous conversations ringing through the library and rotunda, and sometimes even the main hall." Cullen cleared his throat and attempted a poor imitation of the saucy Tevinter mage "I do rather like watching you leave." Evelyn grinned, and Cullen's tongue loosened seeing she wasn't completely furious. "Truth be told, I wasn't convinced until Mother Giselle came to me concerned about his 'undo' influence over you."  Evelyn rolled her eyes recalling the same conversation. "She mentioned you were headed to an Inn in Redcliffe together. That coupled with the rumors circling skyhold..."

"Ah-" sighed Evelyn, "so those were the scrupulous rumors."

"I thought it was all rather obvious and I had been refusing to see truth. I still assumed you two were romantically involved up until our little encounter. Then I thought, 'maybe their relationship is purely physical.' That is, until I saw you reunited; it's obvious you care about each other. Logically it followed that our time together must have been a result of base desires, painful as the thought was for me. But then you got upset, and I ran after you and, Maker, I didn't know what to think." Cullen slumped over and brought his hands to either side of his face, "He was so concerned for you, I thought there's no way they're not involved."

"Far from it," she shook her head, "I can't believe how caught up in your own head you are. No wonder you get headaches. Dorian and I are the best of friends, but I lack a certain attribute he finds appealing, and have too many of others he's not so interested in."

Cullen's brow furrowed, "so strictly men, then? There's no elaborate plot where he slips in bed with us?"

"Maybe after I leave. Or if we invite the Iron Bull too. Kidding, Kidding. No, as much as we enjoy watching your training sessions and sparring matches, I believe he's quite happy with his current arrangement."

"Yes, I recently learned of their relationship. Sort of helped me make the jump from bitter to remorseful." Cullen stiffened as part of her last sentence sank in, muscles relaxing again as confidence replaced discomfort. "You two watch me spar? How long has that been going on?"

Evelyn blushed furiously, glancing away and rubbing her arm. "He noticed me staring on my frequent visits to the training yard while we were in Haven. After I built the sparring ring in Skyhold, we started getting together on the second floor of the Herald's rest to watch out the window. I know I should have built an infirmary instead, but I couldn't resist."

Cullen smiled and they shared a short, comfortable quiet. He looked up at her pitifully, "I'm sorry. I know I said it already, but I truly am. I should have asked you about it instead of getting angry."

"Oh, I don't know," she teased coyly, "In retrospect, I kind of like it when you get a little... territorial."

"And What? Mark you with my scent like some wild beast?"

"Haven't you done just that?" She tilted her head and moved her hair away from her neck, leaning closer for him to see the large purple and yellow ovals spotting her skin.

"Ah, Right. I suppose I lost sight of my better judgment. Apologies."

"Don't apologize," she laughed, "it makes me think you regret it." He looked solemnly into her eyes and she felt a twinge of panic. "You don't do you?"

"No! Maker, No. Not at all. Er, not all of it. Not if you don't."

"Which part do you regret?"

He broke eye contact to stare at the ground beside her, "when I hurt you."

"Cullen, I'm fine," she placed a hand on his knee, "So things got a little rough; did you hear me complaining? You didn't injure me any more than I do myself on the daily. I fall all the time," she moved her hand towards his chin, "it's not-"

"NO." He held her hand between his, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Cullen?"

"I hurt you with what I said," he met her eyes once more, "not just in the forest, but, before, in the cavern. I can't take those words back, but I wish I could. I have not been myself."

"Maybe you could replace them with some nicer words?"

His eyes brightened with hope, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "What would you like to hear?"

"Tell me, again, how you want to keep me all to yourself."

A grin spread over his face as he pulled her closer, twirling her around until she was tangled into him, her back pressed to his chest. "It's bad enough I'm going to have to share you with Orlais and Fereldan," he spoke softly, his breath falling on her neck, nose nuzzled into her hair. "Though I suppose closing rifts is noble enough cause. The idea of losing you; it twisted me to knots. Every minute you were in the company of another man, I felt you like you were slipping away. I never thought I'd get the chance to hold you like this in the first place, when I thought I'd ruined that too..."

"How long had you thought of me this way?"

"Far longer than I should admit. I had considered approaching you prior to Mother Giselle's untimely interference. Not that I think I ever would have had the nerve to do so."

"Why not?"

"Too much uncertainty. Not just about how you might react, but what lies ahead of us. We're in the middle of war. You're the Inquisitor. I thought it was impossible."

"Yet here I am."

"Here you are," he smiled, leaning further into her to kiss her cheek. She turned her head over her shoulder and met his lips. Soft and sweet, wet and warm. She hummed happily as they parted, green eyes glistening in the moonlight. Cullen hugged his arms a little tighter, smiling as she shifted against him and snuggled into his chest. They leaned back together, wrapped in each other's arms and staring into the stars, engulfed in the warmth of one another and slow burning fire.

"Are you- are we ok now?" She asked quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"Just one more thing," his voice rumbled, deep, yet soft, and slow, "Tell me about this bet."

Evelyn grinned, squeezing his arm tenderly as she closed her eyes and turned her face into his chest, whispering into his tunic, "We won."


	6. Chapter 6

"Well, would you look at that." Varric carved a memory of the sleeping couple to call upon once reunited with parchment, ink, and quill.  
  
"Shhhh," Charter held a long, slender finger to her lips, "don't wake them. They haven't been asleep but a few hours."  
  
Sunlight was barely beginning to break through the thick forest and it was uncomfortably cool now that they were outside the makeshift hut. "At this rate, I'm going to curl up next to them."  
  
"You can go back to sleep for a while."  
  
"And miss the big reveal? Nice try, Shadows, I'm going with you. Besides, this pampered dwarf is none too fond of lying on the ground." He looked between the cuddling couples, peacefully sleeping in each other's arms, "apparently I just need to find a big man to lie on. Maybe I should start bringing Hawke with us."  
  
Charter covered her mouth to seal in her giggle. Creeping through the camp, she quietly approached the fire and slowly added a log to the dying flames, then made her way towards the river. Varric cradled Bianca, rubbing away the morning dew with his sleeve, then followed Charter, watching the ground to avoid crunching branches. The rogues slipped into the forest, eager to check their traps and [hopefully] surprise everyone with a hearty breakfast.  
  
Iron Bull listened as their hushed movements faded into the sounds of the forest. He ran a finger through Dorian's dark hair, nestled in the crook of his arm. "You did good, Kadan," he whispered, lightly kissing the mage's freshly exposed temple. Bull relaxed into the moss and leaves, almost slipping back into slumber when Dorian's hand found his.  
  
"What does that mean?" His voice was thick with sleep, "that word you just called me."  
  
"Kadan?"  
  
Dorian lazily rolled on the thick grey arm, turning until his bloodshot chocolate eyes met Bull's lone opal, "yes. I haven't heard you use it before."  
  
Bull smiled and brought a massive hand to rest on Dorian's waist. "It means 'where the heart is.' It's the closest thing in qunlat to love."  
  
Awestruck, Dorian just smiled and closed his eyes. It was all he could do to keep from tearing up. "Where I come from, I could never have this," he almost whispered, soft, slow, and sweet. "I hadn't expected to find it here, with _you_ of all people, but I'm so glad I did."  
  
Bull hummed his contentment and closed his lone eye, leaning down to press soft kisses into the mage's lips. "I've never had this before, either," he breathed between kisses, "but it feels so good, so right." Bull pulled back, meeting the glistening eyes of his heart, his Kadan. "Stay with me, Dorian. When this is all over."  
  
"If we survive it, you mean?"  
  
"WHEN we survive it. When all that's left of Corypheus is the black blood in the grooves of my blade."  
  
"Bull, I- Maker, I don't know what to say. I feel like I need to go back, to try to save my homeland from my idiotic kinsman. But you feel... you feel..." _like home_.  
  
"You're at a loss for words? That's a first."  
  
Dorian shook his head gently, as much as possible while still cradled in Bull's arm. "I have the words, but they scare the shit out of me," he huffed a small, desperate laugh as Bull's husky chuckle rumbled through his chest. A bejeweled hand reached up to gently palm Bull's dark grey cheek. Dorian looked up at him longingly, "Amatus," he finally breathed the word that had been weighing so heavily on his tongue. The immediate smile that graced the qunari's face made his heart twitter like hummingbird wings; rapid fire, yet light as air and ready to float away. No longer did he bare the burden of uncertainty, waiting for the day Bull tired of him like all those who came before. _He is mine_. The syrupy thoughts began their thick drizzle. _I am his_. Gumming up his mind. _My beloved_. Viscous, gooey, sluggish. _His heart_. Just **mush**.

"Void take you, you dastardly handsome cyclops!" Dorian slid his hand to the back of Bull's neck and pulled him into a deep, desperate, needy kiss. Bull moaned into his open mouth, tongue and teeth clashing hastily until he broke away, winded and flushed. "I don't know what the future holds for us," he panted, "but I can't pretend I don't want you in it."  
  
"We will figure it out," Bull smiled, pulling Dorian closer and returning to his lips once more. He sucked softly at the mage's smooth skin, then slowly disengaged from the caress, drawing back to show the promise in his eye, "Together."


	7. Chapter 7

"Cullen," Evelyn whispered, nudging the sleeping warrior with a pointy elbow. No response. "Cullen." She tried again, a little louder, rasping his name and jabbing his ribs. This time a subdued smirk revealed itself in the form of the slightest upturn at the corner of his mouth. She furrowed her brows and pressed her lips together, suppressing her own grin. "I know you're awake, Commander," she teased playfully, rubbing a finger across the stubble of his chin, "you're smiling." His lips curled up despite his efforts at feigned neutrality. "C'mon, we need to vacate the premises." His smile fell as his brows came together, pointed towards the sky, simultaneously confused and displeased. An unexpected and none-too-distant moan hit his ears, sensual and barratone; a man's moan. The creases of his forehead vanished as his expression went white, eyes popping open and blinking into focus. He met Evelyn's wide, smiling gaze from above the hand she had tightly cupped over her mouth. Cheeks going pink as she giggled into her palm, she tugged at his tunic with her other hand, bidding him to rise.

"Was that?.... Nevermind." He shook his head and allowed her to help him to his feet.

"Quietly," she almost mouthed, the tiniest of breaths carrying the word from her tongue. She laced her fingers between his and led him in the opposite direction of the haunted hut.

Cullen peered over his shoulder to confirm his suspicion as Evelyn directed them around logs and over rocks. He caught sight of four bare feet, a set each of copper and slate, all stained with dirt and intertwined, yet hanging loosely off the small platform of bedding. He turned his attention quickly ahead before his eyes roamed further than he pleased. "Our next chess match should prove most entertaining," He snickered.

"Yes, I'm sure you'll _both_ have plenty to talk about." The realization widened his eyes anew, a slow blush creeping over his cheekbones.

"I may have to postpone our next game."

 "I can think of other things to do with your free time," Evelyn turned on heel as they breached the thicket, backing blindly (though deliberately) into a smooth-barked tree trunk. Her fingers unlaced his and she gripped his hands, pulling them towards her waist. He couldn't help but shake his head, a crooked little half-smile wrought with disbelief inching across his scarred lip. She pressed her shoulders and ass against the grey bark, arching her back where she guided his arms around her waist. Her protruding chest rising and falling rapidly, she waited impatiently for his lips to be on her. _Anywhere_. She tilted her head back, exposing her neck and the still evident markings of their last encounter.

"Here? Now?" His questions came out ragged, dripping with desire, and went unanswered as his self control faltered. He seized her neck between his lips, eliciting a gasp that forced a chuckle through his teeth as he lightly scraped her bruised flesh. Drawing his mouth closed his lips glided along slickened flesh while he gently sucked at her silky skin. He bunched the thick venatori robe in his hand, hiking it up to force a knee between her thighs, then leaning into her pelvis; relishing in the responsive roll of her hips. Their bodies rocked together as he worked her robes higher, a hand squirrelling around to grip her bare ass. Volcanic fingertips assaulted his arm,  burning and stinging as nails imbedded flesh, leaving crescent indents in their wake. He growled against her neck, diving a hand into her tangled weave and pulling her head back as he took a wide bite. She stilled in his jaws, submitting to the beast she'd unleashed, yet maintaining the piercing grip on his arms. He could sense the shift in her and began to ease his grip, until she dug her nails deeper into his arm. He grinned at the twinge of pain and tightened his fist in her hair; her tiny gasps confirming what he already knew. _It's going to be **that** kind of morning._


End file.
